"Madam, Sir, Son, I'm Lt. Col. Roosevelt of the 1st Volunteer Cavalry," sang the man to the visitors. "General Wheeler is our cavalry's field commander and I'm on my way to let him know we're here. We just arrived from Texas. May I be of service?" the confident young officer said.
"We have to see the general, Colonel," Lou answered.
"Southern, Madam? Delightful accent, delightful," smiled the stranger. "My dear mother is a proud Georgian. Yes, delightful." Roosevelt twittered, "We had a resident rebel in my home during the War of Southern Rebellion, Madam - my mother!" Roosevelt laughed robustly and his eyes twinkled with good friendly humor.
A thought had come to Lou while confronting the private and now she acted on what she thought. Always one to keep to her business to herself and not broadcast it to others, she was concerned about the nature of their mission and what to tell or not tell this stranger. Acting without caution, she reached into her handbag and pulled out a small object wrapped in an old ragged yellow trimmed linen handkerchief.
Roosevelt continued, "Madam, maybe you'll allow me to take a message. General Shafter has cracked down on civilians in camp. Difficult for us to do our necessary preparations with all the confusion of supplies, transport, foul-ups and this rather challenging weather. Many of the boys are sick. We can't have our good citizens plighted by our malady. Yes, Madam. But I certainly can get a message to the general on you folks' behalf. Be delighted Madam, delighted," he said pleased with his solution.
Joe thought, "What a dude. He's too cheerful by half." He felt an equal measure of fascination and irritation as he experienced the first cavalry officer he had ever seen for real.
Solon was not taken in by the bombast of this Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt. He just saw a shave-tail with lieutenant colonel boards on his collar and was once again bemused by the ways of the military and the world. He knew, as Lou knew, who Roosevelt was. They'd read of his exploits as Police Commissioner in New York City. A grandstander for sure, both had agreed with his raids on the awful sweatshops. They cheered his aggressiveness in helping attack the child labor outrages but were perplexed by his equal energy in disrupting labor unions and reform groups who were trying to change the oppression of the workplace. Do "good" acts cancel out "bad" ones? They'd spent many hours on that query. Solon supported the positive and Lou the negative.
Lou quickly scribbled a note on a piece of paper with a stubby pencil offered by the colonel. She wrote, "General, Sir, we're at the Tampa Hotel, Room 317. Lou." She folded the note and gave it to Roosevelt with the knotted yellow handkerchief.